


Bad Teacher

by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class - Fandom
Genre: 1970s, AU, Charles has misplaced optimism, Crack, Erik gives Charles headaches, Erik is Evil, Erik is a Troll, Erik is a horrible horrible teacher, Erik is just that badass, Erik rocks a leather jacket, Gen, High School, Humour, Jean is a nosy teenage girl, Pranks, Underage Drinking, capes are silly, change from canon, fuschia is not Erik's colour, movieverse AU, post-X-Men: First Class, teenage X-Men, what could go wrong?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-27
Updated: 2012-03-27
Packaged: 2017-11-02 14:25:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel/pseuds/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr Lehnsherr (formerly known as the super-villain Magneto) is Jean's favourite teacher ever. This is not actually the same thing as being a <i>good</i> teacher.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Teacher

**Author's Note:**

> So, a while back I mentioned on my livejournal about how I wanted to write fic where Erik is the the worst and most badass teacher ever, and recieved some encouragement. I sketched out a few scenes, but inspiration deserted me, so the story was shelved for a while. Recently, however, inspiration struck once more, so here you go.
> 
> Takes place several years after 'X-Men: First Class'.

>

**Bad Teacher**

Most of the students didn’t really have any idea why America’s most infamous mutant super-villain had one day abruptly decided to stop trying to kill all of humanity, and joined the Professor instead.

The Professor said that he and Magneto had come to the realisation that a positive outcome for the future of mutantkind would be far more likely if he and Magneto were working co-operatively than if they were at cross-purposes. Jean, though, was pretty sure that it was actually that the two of them just couldn’t stand fighting each other any more.

The Professor and Magneto talked and bickered about things constantly – about everything, really – ( _“Charles, that is a truly hideous sweater.” “Yes, Erik, because a helmet shaped like an upside-down bucket and a fuschia cape are clearly the height of sartorial elegance.”_ ) in a way that made their minds glow happily, and the two of them plotted together, and they always understood each other in a way that left everyone else bewildered. And they liked to play chess a lot and _both_ of them cheated all the time, which Jean understood meant that they both felt that the other one could handle anything they came up with.

So, clearly, the two of them were the best friends ever, even if they’d been fighting on opposite sides for ages.

Jean tried to explain this to Scott, but he just stood there with his mouth open.

“Jean, you’re nuts. Is this some kind of girl thing?”

Jean pushed Scott into the bushes, aiming for the really prickly one that was apparently some kind of rare plant, but which more importantly had hundred of tiny barbed thorns that would get stuck under your skin and itch if you touched it.

_ Boys _ , she thought bitterly.

** -  -  -  -  - **

** -  -  -  -  - **

The very first day that Mr Lehnsherr taught history, no one was expecting much.

Most everyone figured that sure, Magneto had been off doing terrible things, whatever they were, but that didn’t mean that he actually knew anything, and anyway everyone knew that Professor X had been foiling him for years, so obviously, he couldn’t be _that_ impressive.

(Jean was pretty sure that the reason Magneto had always lost when he was fighting the Professor was that he wasn’t completely sure he wanted to win, but she kept that to herself. Some things telepaths were supposed to keep private.)

When Mr Lehnsherr stalked in for his first class everyone was talking and no one really paid any attention to his entrance, except for Jean.

Mr Lehnsherr was wearing jeans and a leather jacket, and Jean had to admit that he was actually kind of cute, in an old kind of way. He had to be at least forty.

When he spoke, though, something made everyone stop and listen.

“Charles – Professor Xavier – had decided that as an educator I am best suited to teaching you history. He believes that I can help you develop intelligent, inquiring minds though patience and persistence.”

Mr Lehnsherr smiled pleasantly. It was like a shark making polite pre-dinner conversation. Jean decided that the reason everyone was paying attention in spite of themselves was probably that their primitive hindbrains were screaming in terror.

“Charles always did have his little delusions.”

Mr Lehnsherr’s smile turned to something far less pleasant. He looked more like a shark than ever.

“As far as I am concerned, what is going to happen in this class is quite simple. I have neither the patience nor inclination to tolerate petty misbehaviour, adolescent rebellion, or a failure to concentrate. So, you will all be perfectly behaved, do as I tell you, and learn whatever I tell you to learn, or you will leave this room via the window.”

There was a long silence.

“I’m glad we understand each other.” Mr Lehnsherr moved to the front desk. “Now, I believe you’re up to chapter two of your textbook, so if you would all turn to page 38…”

Jean thought that some people might actually learn something in history class this year.

Even if it was only that Mr Lehnsherr was completely terrifying and meant what he said, and even if she suspected that some people might have to learn that the hard way.

** -  -  -  -  - **

** -  -  -  -  - **

Scott learnt the hard way.

Honestly, sometimes he was _such_ a teenage boy. Jean liked Scott, she really did, but sometimes he could be so moody and stubborn and annoying, and when he was like that he never paid any attention in class.

Ororo said that he would probably grow out of it eventually, and that all boys were idiots until someone beat it out of them.

Jean knew that this was probably true, because Scott behaved like a jerk towards her _all the time_ , when she could see in his head that he actually liked her a lot, and sometimes wanted to kiss her.

“Mr Summers,” Mr Lehnsherr drawled, “somehow I get the feeling that I don’t have your full attention.”

Scott mumbled something sullenly.

Mr Lehnsherr paused.

Jean glanced at Ororo. Ororo gave her a wide-eyed look.

_ Uh-oh _ , she mouthed. Jean had to agree.

“I beg your pardon?" Mr Lehnsherr’s voice came out dangerously soft.

Scott looked up in a defiant burst of temper.

“I _said_ this is boring. I don’t know why I’m even here. This class is completely useless.”

_ So there, _ Scott’s tone said.

Jean let out a very quiet groan.

There was a clanking of metal, and a chain shot out from under Mr Lehnsherr’s desk and wrapped itself around a suddenly-alarmed Scott.

“Wait, what–”

Who was then flung bodily out the window.

His terrified scream was clearly audible.

“Since Mr Summers apparently has no interest in this class, we will continue without him,” Mr Lehnsherr said smoothly, turning back to the blackboard as screaming continued to drift in from outside, and Jean was pretty certain that it was because he was trying terribly hard not to start laughing and didn’t want them to see.

The rest of the class sat bolt-upright in their chairs, looking like a bunch of panicked rats, ready to break and make a run for it except that they were mesmerised by the predator in front of them.

“Now, the First World War –”

“ _Oh God! Oh God!_ ”

“– can be said to have begun –”

“ _Help! Help! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Please God let me down ohGodohGodohGod_ –”

“ – with the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand in 1914…”

An observer would have thought that Jean’s class found this the most fascinating thing ever, because no one dared look away.

At the end of the lesson there was almost a stampede to escape the room.

Jean stayed behind to talk to Mr Lehnsherr where he was sitting at his desk.

“Sir, is Scott okay?” she asked directly.

Mr Lehnsherr glanced up with a slight smile and a warming of the eyes. He liked Jean. Most teachers did.

“He’ll be fine, Miss Grey. I would not harm a student.”

_ No matter how irritating _ , he thought dryly, loud enough for her to overhear without meaning to.

Jean nodded. She waited until Mr Lehnsherr had finished putting his things away, and asked,

“If you don’t mind my asking, where did you leave him?”

Mr Lehnsherr’s eyes danced with mirth.

“I dropped him just above the swimming pool.”

Jean snorted and left the room to an answering grin from her history teacher.

** -  -  -  -  - **

** -  -  -  -  - **

The next time that Scott’s brother was at the mansion, Jean listened in.

“ _You threw my brother out a window?!_ ” Havok asked, sounding and feeling completely pissed.

“He was being a disruptive influence. I did warn him.”

Jean was pretty sure that Mr Lehnsherr was grinning unabashedly.

“So you threw him _OUT THE WINDOW?_ ” The last few words were extremely loud.

“Didn’t I already answer this question?”

“You are still such a bastard,” Banshee laughed. He seemed to find the whole thing funny. “Come on Alex, at least it wasn’t a satellite dish. Besides, this is Erik we’re talking about. You’re lucky he didn’t do worse.”

“Charles has been a sadly-reformative influence on me,” Mr Lehnsherr admitted. He still sounded like he was grinning.

Jean was getting tired, so she left their minds alone and went off to read her new book.

** -  -  -  -  - **

** -  -  -  -  - **

The whiskey was Jason’s idea.

The fact that it was Jason’s idea probably should have been enough of a warning not to have anything to do with it, because Jason had a chip on his shoulder a mile wide and _loved_ to cause trouble, especially if it made the adults in charge angry.

But Ororo said that she’d had whiskey before and it wasn’t bad, and Jean was curious and so was everyone else, so they ended up sitting on the roof trying to think casual thoughts (not stealthy thoughts, Jean had told them, because stealthy thoughts would make the Professor suspicious and he’d want to know what they were doing) drinking a bottle of Jack Daniels that Jason had gotten from somewhere.

Jean coughed a lot the first time she tried to drink some, which made the boys laugh, except that Scott choked so bad when it was his turn that whiskey came out of his nose, and everyone forgot about Jean because they were too busy teasing Scott.

After the first few sips Jean got used to the burn of the alcohol as it went down and the flare of warmth in her stomach. She began to feel pleasantly relaxed.

That was probably why, like everyone else, she didn’t notice when someone else came up through the roof.

The first she knew was when an ominous voice spoke from _right behind her_.

“Well, well. What, I wonder, would Charles say?”

Mr Lehnsherr was standing there with his arms folded and looking sardonic.

Everyone stared at him in complete horror and consternation, even Jason.

“I am disappointed in all of you.” Jean flinched at his words, and tried to curl up and pretend she wasn’t there. “A group of fifteen year olds, sitting on the roof drinking cheap whiskey. I expected better.”

Mr Lehnsherr took the bottle from Jason’s unresisting hand and read the label with contempt.

“ _Jack Daniels_. With all the excellent whiskeys on the market, you chose one that should be reserved for cleaning drains. If you can steal a bottle of Jack Daniels then you can certainly make the effort to steal a bottle of Glenfiddich or Chivas Regal.”

With one last, disgusting glare at the lot of them, Mr Lehnsherr disappeared down the roof hatch again.

There was a long silence.

“…wait, what?” someone asked finally.

“Glenfiddich and Chivas Regal,” said Jason thoughtfully. “Do any of you have a pen and paper? I want to write those down.”

** -  -  -  -  - **

** -  -  -  -  - **

Jean overheard the Professor and Mr Lehnsherr discussing the incident later, completely by accident. She was walking past Professor X’s study when she heard their voices, faint but audible through the not-quite-shut door. She tried to listen in more closely.

“You know, Erik, when I sent you up there to deal with the children, I expected you to give them a lecture on the evils of drinking, _not_ make recommendations on which brands of whiskey they should prefer.”

The Professor’s voice was full of steel, and he sounded like he was glaring.

Jean tried to keep herself very small and unnoticeable as she very lightly touched Mr Lehnsherr’s mind to follow the conversation better.

“Charles, Charles, Charles. How hypocritical of you. I seem to remember someone once telling me that an appreciation for good whiskey is one of life’s most important skills.”

Jean could tell that Mr Lehnsherr was smiling. His mind reminded her a little of the alcohol she’d drunk, burning and warm.

When the Professor next spoke, Mr Lehnsherr knew that he was trying not to sound embarrassed.

“In my youth I may not precisely have followed the path of sobriety –”

There was a rush of laughing, incredulous scorn at his words in Mr Lehnsherr’s mind.

“Charles,” Mr Lehnsherr said mercilessly, “you were an excitable little lush who mostly used his prestigious Oxford education to pick up girls. Your approach was terrible, by the way.”

Jean slapped a hand over her mouth to stop the shocked laughter, so that no one who might be passing asked why she was so amused.

Suddenly the warmth of Mr Lehnsherr’s mind shut off like a wall had come down, and his mind turned steely and hard.

Jean reeled at the abrupt change.

“Charles, I believe that one of your pupils is eavesdropping.”

_ Jean.  _

The Professor sounded very annoyed.

Jean guiltily flinched back from his mind and Mr Lehnsherr’s like she’d been burnt, away from the Professor’s heavy disapproval and irritation.

She fled back towards the main staircase, feeling ashamed of herself.

** -  -  -  -  - **

** -  -  -  -  - **

Jean was walking down the hallway when she heard them.

“–the thing is we – we were hoping you could tell us about sex,” one of the boys blurted, sounding mortified.

Jean stopped in her tracks, and extended her mind in that direction.

This was one conversation she definitely wanted to hear all of.

“Sex.”

 Mr Lehnsherr’s voice was almost neutral, as he stood there, arms folded, and the boys felt like they were going to die of mortification, particularly since Professor X was next to him raising one bemused eyebrow.

“And you chose to come to me, why?” Mr Lehnsherr asked. He sounded faintly amused.

“Uh, well, Jason said you’re totally badass so you probably get heaps of girls,” Scott blurted under the intimidating power of Mr Lehnsherr’s stare. Jason glared daggers at him.

“While I’m flattered,” and to Jean’s curious brush at his mind he felt deeply mischievous all of a sudden, “you’re better off going to Professor Xavier, boys. He has far more experience than I do.”

“What?”

“Erik!” the Professor protested.

“Really?” Jason asked skeptically.

“Oh yes.” Mr Lehnsherr was smiling widely. “Why, when he was only a little older than you, Charles used to go home with a different girl almost every night.”

“I was twenty-six!” Professor X snapped, and then seemed to realise his mistake immediately. “That is –”

The boys stared at him, awestruck.

“Wow, Professor!”

“I’ll leave you to it, Charles,” Erik said smoothly, and Jean could tell that he was laughing on the inside.

“Erik, don’t you _dare_ -”

Jean could hear footsteps coming around the corner but she couldn’t move, she was laughing too hard.

Mr Lehnsherr stopped and raised his eyebrows as he saw Jean leaning back against the wall with her fist in her mouth, tears of uncontrollable laughter rolling from her eyes.

He waited until Jean at least had enough control to stop crying.

“Mr Lehnsherr, that was really evil.”

Jean’s voice came out choked with laughter.

Mr Lehnsherr simply smiled and inclined his head, preparing to continue on his way.

“Sir?” Jean called after him. He stopped and glanced back inquiringly. “I just want you to know that you’re my favourite teacher ever.”

“Thank you, Miss Grey,” he called back. There was a flash of a sharklike grin, and Mr Lehnsherr vanished around the next corner.

** -  -  -  -  - **

** -  -  -  -  - **

Sometimes Jean got caught up enough in what the others were doing that she went along with things she knew she shouldn’t. Most of the time she was pretty responsible, but sometimes the others got to her, especially if Ororo was involved, and Jean ended up in situations that she really should know better than to get herself into.

That was how she found herself standing in the hallway with the others outside Dr McCoy’s rooms, while Ororo picked the lock.

Well, Jean thought, she was only fourteen. Everyone knew you had to make allowances when people were fourteen.

Ororo made a triumphant noise as the lock turned, and they all prepared to troop into Dr McCoy’s rooms.

“What are you doing?” asked a voice, at the same time as Jean felt a familiar presence loom up behind them.

Like everyone else, she turned to see Mr Lehnsherr standing there, eyebrow raised curiously at the group of students in the hall.

Mr Lehnsherr looked around at all the guilty faces.

Jean waited resignedly as his gaze eventually settled on her.

“Miss Grey?” The teacher’s voice was dryly interrogative.

“Um, well,” said Jean, squirming, “we were – we were planning to replace Dr McCoy’s shampoo with glue,” she admitted in a small voice, staring at her shoes.

There was a long silence.

Several people shifted uneasily.

“I see.” A beat. “Carry on.”

And Mr Lehnsherr continued down the corridor without another word.

For a moment everyone just stood there in surprise.

“Mr Lehnsherr is awesome,” Jason declared reverently.

“Come on!” Ororo hissed, gesturing them into Dr McCoy’s rooms. Giggling, everyone crowded in after her.

Mr Lehnsherr really was her favourite teacher ever, Jean thought.

** END **

** And a coda! **

**_ Later, after the entire unfortunate incident with Hank McCoy and the shampoo prank… _ **

“Did you know about this?” Charles pinned Erik with his best stern glare.

“Of course.” Erik moved a chess piece without the slightest expression of guilt. He looked smug, actually. “I thought it was particularly funny.”

He raised an eyebrow in a way that suggested that he believed that Charles secretly agreed with him. (He was right, of course, but Charles’ sense of justice and empathy won out over any secret, traitorous sense of amusement.)

Charles groaned loudly, and actually dropped his head into his hands.

“Why did I ever think that this was a good idea?” he muttered.

“I’m as mystified as anyone, Charles,” Erik informed him.

“Erik. Shut up.”

  



End file.
